


Do A Little Dance

by girlintheglen



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 08:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12186705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlintheglen/pseuds/girlintheglen





	Do A Little Dance

**Prompts:** Donkey and Pink

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

It was ridiculous, a ludicrous and somehow predictable spectacle from an equally ridiculous individual.

Illya Kuryakin stood in the center of a circle composed of young women, all of them dressed in diaphanous gowns and sporting flowers in their uniformly blonde hair.  He, much to his despair (but again, thoroughly predictable based on past experiences), was stripped down to a flimsy bit of cloth that was tied across his hips in a strategic manner.  He was grateful for small favors, especially in light of what he believed was his role in this bizarre ritual.

The women began to circle around him in a slow dance, their movements ballet like, although lacking in the eloquence of that art.  When he lifted his eyes to the balcony above him, Illya could just glimpse the figure of the man orchestrating this nonsense.

Next to Othello Periwinkle was Napoleon Solo, still fully dressed and sitting atop a donkey that was a garish shade of pink, saddled in silver leather.  The UNCLE agent watched without expression as his partner was circled by the cloud of dancing girls, their dresses forming flower shaped ripples in varying shades of pastels as they twirled and made their way inward, closer and closer to the man in the center.

"What exactly is the purpose of this?  Are you heading for Broadway, perhaps?"  Napoleon was more agitated than he would show, his concern for Illya tinged with the slightest edge of envy.  It was normally his role to be surrounded by beautiful women.

"Ah, Mr. Solo, do you desire to be down there in the throes of passion?  My beautiful virgins are doing their dance before one of them claims her prize.  They will be the first to produce offspring; beautiful, ethereal creatures who will fill this kingdom that I rule.''

He was crazy, and yet here they were.  Illya was bound to an intricately carved pillar that depicted scenes intended to incite romance.  As the women moved closer to the center, he began to see the signs of something akin to ardor, although he suspected they were drugged.  Otherwise why would they engage in this little spectacle?

Napoleon was attempting to untie the restraints that held him to the donkey.  What an oddity that was, a donkey on a balcony.  Still, nothing surprised him at this point, Periwinkle was nuts and therefore predictably unpredictable.

As Othello watched with anticipation as one of the dancers began to emerge from the circle, Napoleon snapped apart the leather around his wrists and the horn of the saddle.  Aware of his captor's rapt attention to the scene below them, Napoleon slowly bent over and released a buckle on the stirrups, first one and then the other.

As the girl approached Illya he grimaced slightly as she reached for the loin cloth that was his only defense against total exposure.  At the same time Napoleon leaped off of the donkey and, with one efficient move, felled Othello with a precise chop to the back of his neck.

Napoleon picked up a large gong, one that Othello had used to signal the start of the dance.  He moved behind the donkey and with one hand began to tickle at the base of the creature's tail, standing to one side and holding the gong.  The sound created as the donkey kicked at the gong reverberated across the balcony's ledge and down to the scene below.

Instantly the music stopped and the dancers all fell to the ground.  The girl who now stood directly in front of Illya, and whose hand was already grasping the fabric around his hips, also fell at the sound of the clanging gong, taking with her the prize she had sought.

Napoleon was respectful, as always, and had removed Othello's purple cape before heading down to rescue his partner.  Illya eagerly wrapped himself in the voluminous garment, glad to be done once more with such nonsense.

When the two UNCLE agents were safely back in the bowels of Headquarters, Illya was relishing the feel of being totally clothed once more.  The black turtleneck and trousers were the ultimate contrast to his formerly naked self, his defense against the memory of it.

"What the devil do you suppose he was intending to do with… with me?  And how did he manage to get that donkey onto the balcony?"  Napoleon laughed out loud at his partner's rambling questions.  

"I think he was intending to, um… well, create a race of blonde dancers … ' Illya rolled his eyes at the response.

''Honestly Illya, I don't know.  He was a lunatic who abducted those girls based on their hair color, and then decided to have them, um…" Illya colored slightly at the unfinished comment.

"I know exactly what he … chyort.  And what about the donkey?"  They really deserved to get paid more for what they did.

Napoleon thought about it.

"He was a very smart donkey.  I don't know what else to say."  

Illya simply sighed.  It was like a perverted scene from A Midsummer Night's Dream.  More like a Midsummer Nightmare.

"Dinner?"

"Absolutely."

They left Del Floria's intending to eat and drink, and hopefully put aside the past few days as a mission accomplished.

They didn't notice the blonde girl following them.

 


End file.
